


Rapture

by queenhomeslice



Series: Rhapsody [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Noctis Lucis Caelum, Bottom Noctis Lucis Caelum, Bottom Prompto Argentum, Boys Kissing, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Carrying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Sex, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Sleepovers, Smut, Switching, Teen Romance, Top Noctis Lucis Caelum, Top Prompto Argentum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: “Was...was it good?” Prompto asks.How can he possibly ask that?





	1. Rapture

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

It’s midnight and the credits on the B-list alien movie have just started rolling. Noctis and Prompto are molded to one another on Noct’s couch, empty pizza boxes and chip bags and soda bottles littering the coffee table—and floor—in a way that would probably give Ignis a heart attack, but neither of them care. Prompto had come over after Ignis had worked Noctis to the bone with housework, homework, and Citadel business—but at nine pm on a Friday, a seventeen year-old boy’s attention is only going to last so long. Especially when there are better, hotter things to think about—like another seventeen year-old boy, a blond-haired, blue-eyed physical embodiment of the sun, one whose warmth Noctis had been without for over five hours and he felt too cold, too touch-starved, and too lonely. 

But not now. Now he’s holding the sun in his arms, and Prompto’s weight is like a grounding comfort, chasing away all the problems of the realm, his aging father, the more intensive training, the studying of magic and enchantments, the burden of the world on his shoulders. Right now he isn’t the prince of anything, he’s just Noctis: stupidly whipped and in love with the adorable, drooling friend on top of him on the couch. Noctis is surprised that he’s not the one asleep, and he watches lazily as the pop-up box on the streaming app cuts into the credits and counts down— _10, 9, 8—_ until the start of the equally-bad sequel. Noctis lets the second movie start—it's not like he and Prom haven’t seen these cheesy sci-fi movies a hundred times before, but he likes them because Prompto likes them and he likes Prompto and they’re both geeks on the same wavelength; so he lets the second movie start and he shifts, just a little, and Prompto makes a noise and Noctis cards his hands through soft yellow hair; and he wants to freeze time and stay in this moment for a few years, at least. 

It’s been a couple of months now, and he and Prompto are now experts at making out and giving blow jobs and grinding their naked cocks against each other for release. They shower together; and Noctis is pretty sure that Prompto has “accidentally” taken home about a third of his clothes, but it’s not like the prince minds. But Noctis wants _more_ of Prompto. He idly wonders how it would feel to have Prompto inside of him, chasing an orgasm while screaming Noct’s name and topping him; and Noctis feels his face go hot at the thought and feels the inevitable twitch inside of his sweatpants. Then his brain switches gears and _he_ imagines taking Prompto: imagines his friend’s face twisted in pleasure and his sharp collarbones shining with sweat and his red, freckled face streaked with tears of euphoria. He has dirty thoughts of commanding Prompto to keep his hands above his head and refrain from touching himself as he fucks him slowly, edging himself inside Prompto’s tight heat and staring down at Prompto’s neglected length, red and weeping and begging for release. He imagines pushing Prompto to the last possible second and then allowing him to touch his cock and pump himself to completion—how would Prompto grip him, rocking his ass against Noct’s groin as half-finished words and too-loud screams of the prince’s name spilling out of him as cum spills out of his cock? Noctis can only imagine. And Noctis _wants_. 

Noctis inhales sharply at these thoughts and he’s at half-mast already just from _thinking_ ; and all traces of lethargy are gone and Noctis _yearns_ , but he’s had to be so careful with Prompto, because he doesn’t want to scare him away—even though he knows that Prompto would rather die than leave him. Still, he doesn’t want to lose this. 

The lewd thoughts in his head have traveled south and he can’t help but squeeze his eyes and grip a little tighter to Prompto’s back and rut upwards, ignoring the corny CGI alien drama that’s blaring through the television. Prompto lets out a sigh in his sleep and shuffles a little, but Noctis continues to slowly grind, reveling in the friction against Prompto’s hard, lean torso. Several minutes go by and Noctis is lost in his own brain, sci-fi action adventures be damned, when he hears a breathless groan— 

“Mmmmmm, Noct...” 

And fuck, there are only a handful of voices that could stop Noctis like a chocobo in headlights right now, and one of those voices is slowly coming to consciousness, its usual high-pitched lilt tinged deep with groggy sleep, rendering Noctis dead in the water. Prompto moves and raises up on his torso, eyelids still heavy but his blue gaze laser-focused on Noct’s own, warm blush across freckled skin. 

Prompto grins shyly. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, buddy?” he whispers, as if he doesn’t know. 

“You,” Noctis says plainly, with conviction, as he ruts up sharply against Prompto. 

Prompto hums prettily and laughs. He rubs his eyes and looks to the tv, temporarily distracted. “Oh, the second one’s on now? Cool. You watchin’?” 

“Not really,” says Noctis, impatient. “Can we...” He’s really going to lay himself out on the table tonight; he doesn’t think he can wait anymore. “Can we move to the bed?” 

“Mmmmmmm,” Prompto says, and he licks his lips. It’s the most obscene thing Noctis has ever seen and he can’t look away. “You might have to carry me to the bed, not sure I can move yet.” 

“Yeah, all right.” Noctis doesn’t care what he has to do. He’ll lick Prompto’s boots if it means his best friend will have sex with him. The prince maneuvers out from under Prompto and stands and stretches, grabs the remote to turn off the movie, and hauls Prompto up bridal style, still wrapped in the warm cable-knit throw Ignis had gotten him as a solstice present. 

Prompto gasps as Noctis easily lifts him like he’s a small pet and the blond instinctively wraps his arms around Noct’s neck—and in another time, another universe, Noctis dreams about both of them dressed in suits with rings on their fingers and taking turns carrying each other over the threshold of a master suite in the Citadel—but it’s a pipe dream and Noctis doesn’t want to be sad right now, he wants to be horny; so he refocuses his mind into carrying Prompto to his bed, silently thanking Ignis that he’d insisted upon tidying the room and changing the sheets and putting fresh wax in the wax warmer. 

The bedroom smells like warm amber and smoke and Noctis kind of just...dumps Prompto on the bed and he lets out a cute squeak. 

“I...I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!” Prompto untangles himself from the thick blanket and moves it out of the way, nervously scratching the back of his neck. He’s shirtless but in loose gray sweatpants, sitting cross-legged on the bed now, cream blanket in a ball behind him. He’s looking up at Noctis with nothing short of awe and admiration, and yawns in spite of himself. 

“What...” Prompto starts, but Noctis cuts him off. 

“Will you have sex with me?” Noctis holds his breath—he said the words too fast. He’s afraid that if he waited too long he wouldn’t be able to say them at all. 

Prompto’s blush starts in the little happy trail of blond hairs below his belly button and creeps all the way up his torso, his arms and freckled shoulders, his smooth neck and sharp jaw and petite, pointed nose, all the way up into his bleach blond hairline above his forehead. 

Noctis can’t stop staring. He’s the most beautiful thing the prince has ever seen and Noctis is wondering how he ever charmed Prompto into being his friend, and more. 

Prompto takes one huge gulp of air and manages to say, “How do you want me?” without stutter or hesitation, like he’s been waiting for this question as long as he was old enough to understand the concept. 

Noctis almost feels his knees buckle underneath him, but he stays strong and manages to keep standing as he quickly shuffles out of his clothes; and soon he’s standing naked beside the bed and digging in the bedside table drawer for condoms and lube. “Will you let me take you?” Noctis murmurs as he feels his ears get hot. He finds his supplies and lays them on the bed, finally looking to Prompto. 

The blond is already on his back, sweatpants off, cock half-hard and pulsing with want, knees bent and underside bared to the room and to Noctis. His arms are spread out beside him, and he’s gripping the sheets like a lifeline. 

Noctis feels like he’s going to faint. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to hurt Prompto but he wants to be buried in him immediately. He gulps and grabs the lube and the condom and walks on his knees in front of Prompto, settling down in between his legs, and running sword-calloused hands over smooth, pale thighs. “You’re so fucking hot, Prom,” Noctis almost cries. 

“Shu-shut up,” Prompto laughs as he blushes even more—it shouldn’t be possible but it is, and he does—and turns his head to the side. “You’re like, stupid attractive. Ethereal. You should be arrested for being so damn good-looking but who’s gonna arrest you? You _are_ the police. Gods.” Prompto clears his throat. “Do you...do you really think I’m hot?” 

“Fuck, Prom, I didn’t realize I was bisexual until I met you.” 

Prompto snaps his head back forward. “You’re serious.” It’s not a question. 

Noctis nods. “Yeah, I mean...you’re so damn oblivious, dude. I like...undressed you with my eyes when we first met. It was crazy.” 

Prompto squeezes his eyes shut and laughs big and loud; and Noctis’ heart nearly beats out of his chest at the sound. “What an honor,” says Prompto, as if he’s forgotten that they’re about to go all the way. “Who would have ever guessed that I would make the Crown Prince like dick?” 

“Not _any_ dick,” Noctis snorts. “Just yours.” 

“Speaking of,” says Prompto as he wiggles his ass on the bed, causing his cock to swing back and forth along his lower abdomen. “You gonna do something about my dick? Or your dick? Or both of ‘em?” 

Noctis exhales slowly and tries to lessen the pounding in his ears. “I, uh...I don’t know...” 

“It’s okay buddy, I’ll walk you through it,” says Prompto fondly, without any criticism of his inexperience. 

Noctis has never even touched himself like this—he can never get his fingers more than a few centimeters in and he’d always been too nervous to buy a toy for fear of Ignis or Gladio finding out and giving him never-ending shit for it. Prompto, on the other hand, obviously has a small _collection_ —Noctis doesn’t ask where he gets them, or how he hides them—and is obviously used to the feel of things up his ass, so Noct lets Prom talk him through it as he squirts lube onto his index finger and pushes it inside of his best friend. 

Prompto lets go of holding his cheeks open for Noct and tilts his head back in pleasure. Finally, _finally_ , he thinks. How long has be waited for this? How long has he felt too lonely and pathetic, thinking his pining was one-sided? The last two months of kissing, blow-jobs, and thigh-fucks in the shower have been like one long, continuous wet dream fantasy sequence for Prompto, and now, _tonight_ , is the culmination of all of the sexual tension. The small garbage anxiety lobe of his brain keeps flashing warning signs but Prompto smartly ignores them, because he knows that Noctis isn’t going anywhere, and neither is he—this is their second year of friendship and they’ve already established so much, and Noctis has all but confessed to being head-over-heels for Prompto, whether his internal voice tells him he’s a garbage bag or not; so Prompto resolves not to worry or let his self-destructive tendencies ruin the fact that _Prince Noctis_ is taking his virginity. 

The slender blond revels in the feel of Noct’s finger, and he breathlessly encourages him to add a second, after several minutes; he guides him into the scissoring motion to open him up more, he talks him through curling his fingers up and finding— _oh, yes, gods, right there,_ _Noct_ , Prompto cries as his best friend finds his prostate and pushes against it, over and over again. Prompto’s so hard that it hurts and he gasps for air as Noctis finds a steady rhythm and adds a third finger, working Prompto’s tight heat open as he sits on his knees, blue eyes blown out with lust and licking his lips as he watches his fingers disappear inside of Prompto. 

“Fuck, Prompto,” Noctis whines as he starts to touch his own cock, desperate for something to take the edge off. “You gonna come on my fingers?” Noctis’ voice has gone hoarse. He can’t think straight; he can barely breathe. He swipes a bead of pre-cum from the tip of his head and trails it down the underside of Prompto’s cock. 

“Fu-fuck! Noct!” Prompto’s head lulls back after witnessing Noctis putting his pre-cum on his cock. Prompto’s so turned on he doesn’t know what to do, and he feels that wave cresting higher and higher— 

Noctis is panting hard, lazily working his free hand over his own length as Prompto fucks himself on his other fingers. 

“More, Noct...more...” Prompto manages. He feels his toes curling in the sheets, and he’s gripping the designer cloth in his hands tighter than he’s ever held onto anything in his short little life. 

Noctis sucks in a breath as he wedges his pinky finger inside of Prompto and _pushes_ , and the blond screams high in ecstasy and comes untouched, hips bucking up wildly and cock bobbing with leaking white, arms straining as he pushes up, up, up; and Noctis surges forward and wraps his fist around Prompto’s cock and milks him until he’s spent. His fingers are still inside of his best friend, warm and sticky with lube, feeling the fluttering muscle and the collapsing tightness as Prompto rides out his orgasm. He pulls out slowly, gasping in awe at how open and ready Prompto is for him now. 

Noctis is nearly dizzy with desire and has to concentrate with willpower he didn’t know he had in order to open the condom without tearing it—but he somehow manages and gets the thin cover on his cock, covering it in a little more lube. He’d rather be safe than sorry but his mind is too far gone to think about little else. “You’re incredible,” he says. 

Prompto opens his eyes and sees Noctis scooting up closer to him, bringing his hands behind his knees and lifting them up over his ankles, looking down to see his cum-covered abs, Noct’s eyes so wide that they’re barely blue anymore, black hair poofed up in impossible points and bangs slick with sweat across his tanned forehead. “I love you,” Prompto blurts, without any sort of precedent or lead-in. “I love you so fucking much, Noct, it...it... _consumes_ me.” And then he starts to choke and cry and sniff back mucus in his pale, freckled nose—and Noctis surges down to kiss him deeply, before he’s even pushed inside of him. 

_I love you_. Of course that’s what it is, that’s what it’s always been, they’ve just rarely said outside of a quick, “Here, I’ll buy you some noodles”/ “Holy fuck, dude, I love you so much.” Noctis realizes that all the times that Prompto has told that he loved him, he probably really did mean it in every sense of the word, only Noctis was too stupid until now to realize that his crush—more than a crush—was reciprocated tenfold. 

Noctis loses himself in Prompto’s mouth for a minute before the ache becomes far too much to bear and he sits back up. 

“Go...go slow...” Prompto advises, with a small encouraging smile. 

Noctis nods and grips the base of his cock and slowly inches forward until he feels himself breech Prompto’s ring of muscle. He feels Prompto relax and he pushes in a little more, then he pulls out and cants his hips back and forth, amazed at how good it feels even though he’s only halfway in. 

“You’re doing so well, Noct. So good, buddy,” Prompto praises. 

“Hey, I thought _you_ were the one that got off on that,” Noctis chuckles as he continues to ease in and out of Prompto’s ass. 

“Hey, it’s our first time, figured you could use some encouragement. In case you were nervous...or whatever.” Prompto blushes. 

“I’m pretty nervous, but seeing you come from just my fingers has pushed most of it away. That was so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” Prompto laughs breathily. 

“The noises you make, gods, Prom. I think about them all the time,” Noctis confesses. 

“You’re pretty hot yourself, Prince Noctis,” Prompto teases with a goofy wink, and _fuck_ , the use of the title surges right to his groin. 

Noctis growls low and bottoms out inside of Prompto, earning him another slew of curses and high-pitched whines. Noctis lets instinct take over and he begins to move inside of his best friend, slamming his hips forward into Prompto’s tight heat with reckless abandon. He switches his gaze between the ceiling and Prompto—if he stays looking at the pretty boy underneath him, Noctis knows he’ll come too soon, so he has to give his eyes a break from the ocular stimulation—and he closes his eyes and just resigns himself to _feel._

Every sound that Prompto makes is like a song, and he sings Noctis’ name like a private concert. The slick slapping of their bodies together provides the symphony backdrop, and Noctis feels a slight shift in Prompto’s rhythm as he’s staring at the celing, so he looks back down. Prompto has his hand around his cock—he's hard again already, fucking Astrals—and is letting the pace that Noctis sets push his hard length into his fist. Seeing Prompto so open and pliant for him, losing himself in Noct’s rhythm, has every fiber of the prince’s being on fire. There will be plenty more times for him to edge and command and deny; right now, he’s just trying to last as long as possible so Prompto doesn’t think that five minutes of sex is all he’s capable of. 

Noctis might be royalty and have literal magic running through his veins, but he’s only human, and the cacophony of Prompto’s cries of pleasure and the way his ass is gripping his cock has Noctis nearing completion way before he wanted to—but his thighs are burning with the effort and he’s dripping in sweat and he feels Prompto come again and scream his name like a desperate prayer, hears him say _I love you_ a second time _,_ even in the throes of passion, and Noctis feels the proverbial dam lose its structural stability and _break_. He surges forward and hikes one of Prompto’s pretty pale legs up over his shoulder at an even higher angle and ruts into him like the world is ending. 

Noctis comes with a loud cry and for several long seconds he doesn’t recognize his own voice as he feels his cock convulse and shoot his release into the condom that’s wrapped around him; he’s seeing stars and he’s blasted off into another galaxy as he rocks his hips forward and forward and forward, trying to drink in as much of Prompto’s body as he possibly can. Prompto’s hand is still trapped beneath them, wrapped around his softening, leaking cock. Noctis is panting into a warm, freckled shoulder, and he’s so overcome with emotion and exertion that he can only bite down hard into the other boy’s flesh. 

Prompto cries out pathetically as Noctis brands his shoulder with his perfect white teeth, and the blond lets his body go slack as Noctis releases his legs and slides out of him. He sits up and ties off the condom and flings it somewhere into the night before crashing back down onto the bed. 

Several minutes pass before Noctis rolls and looks at Prompto, who’s still sticky twice-over with his own orgasm. The blond is still on his back, arms slack at his sides, breathing mostly normal, face still flushed and sweaty, freckled dancing on ever-pink cheeks. Noct feels like his heart is going to burst. He doesn’t know if he has room for everything that he’s feeling. He reaches out and cups Prompto’s face, and his friend leans into it and hums, smiling softly. 

“Was...was it good?” Prompto asks. 

How can he possibly ask that? 

“And the award for understatement of the year goes to...” Noctis trails off into a chuckle and Prompto laughs with him. 

“Okay, okay, I was just askin’. ‘Cause, uh. That was pretty incredible for me. Not sure I can top that.” Prompto turns to face Noctis and smiles, and the prince tries to count the freckles on his nose. 

“You weren’t topping anything,” Noctis retorts. “You were the power bottom.” 

“Wow, _wow_ ,” says Prompto. “You get laid once and it goes to your big fat stupid beautiful head. Incredible.” 

Noctis sticks out his tongue. 

“Attractive,” says Prompto sarcastically, but he means it anyway. 

“I love you too,” Noctis whispers. “In case it wasn’t clear. Not just because we’ve been physical or whatever, I know I’ve loved you way before that. I just never had a name. And I feel like my heart’s about to burst out of my chest. I’m...” 

“You’re _feeling_ way too much,” Prompto finishes. “Welcome to my world, bro. I told you before. It consumes me, utterly. I don’t know what to do with myself half the time.” 

“Yeah? Wow,” says Noctis. 

Prompto just blushes and nods. After a few more moments, he continues. “I think it’s shower time, then bed. I’m beat.” 

“Sounds good.” Noctis yawns. He feels all of his usual lethargy crash down on him at once. 

The boys move mechanically from the bed and lean on each other as they enter Noct’s bathroom. Prompto knows he’s going to be sore in the morning but fuck, is it ever worth it. He wants to feel the evidence of their sex for the rest of his life. Noctis turns on the shower and starts to think about what he can do differently next time. They clean each other off and fumble back into their sweatpants and crash into each other on the mattress, exchanging soft kisses until they drift off into dreamland. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thanks for checking in, ~I’m still a piece of garbage!~


	2. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s begging him. The Prince of Lucis is begging him. Prompto’s got his cock almost all the way in, and he’s been rocking gently, riding the pleasure waves and relishing the feel of Noctis around him. He hasn’t let primal instinct take over, he hasn’t pounded Noctis into the mattress like he wants to. But now...now Noctis is downright begging him. And how can he deny Noctis anything, ever?

Noctis wakes slowly, coming out of a deep, dreamless sleep like butter in a saucepan on low heat. He’s back to consciousness almost before he realizes it, and he sighs heavily into his pillow. He’s so warm, and his bedroom is still dark—thank the gods for blackout curtains. He doesn’t even remember what day it is. Just as he wiggles a bit to settle back into nothingness, he feels the incessant push on his bladder—he's hard, and it’s not because he knows Prompto is knocked out beside him, drooling and breathing heavily in the cutest way possible. Noctis groans and untangles himself from the sheets and moves mechanically to the bathroom. He’s too lazy to even stand right now so he yanks his underwear and his pajama pants down in one fell swoop and shivers as his skin meets the cold toilet seat. 

He doesn’t move immediately when he’s finished; but he vaguely realizes that falling asleep on the can is not attractive at all, so eventually he pats himself dry with toilet paper and flushes, pulling his clothes back on and stumbling back to the bed. He squints in the soft light of the little automatic air freshener that’s plugged in near the bed, and blinks his eyes a little more open. 

Prompto tends to run hot, so he’s almost always in some sort of light clothing—breezy muscle shirt that’s one size too big, lightweight jeans, indecent shorts in the summertime, school uniform rolled up to his forearms with his top button undone and tie hanging loosely around his neck. The blond went to bed in a t-shirt and pants, but somehow he’s managed to lose both of them during the night, because Noctis registers the pile of clothing on the floor on Prompto’s side of the bed; and then he registers Prompto with no covers on him at all, face down and breathing deeply into the pillow, only tight red boxer briefs covering his ass. His pale back is exposed to the world, soft and warm and littered with more of those freckled constellations that Noctis can’t get enough of. Prompto’s got the lean, lithe body of a runner—his muscles are there, just supple and not noticeable unless he actively flexes, but Noctis can still see the definition. He’s got both arms under the pillow, one leg straight out and the other bent around a pillow that’s between his legs. Noctis could look at him all day. But why just look when he knows he can _have_ him? 

Noctis climbs back into bed, turning to face Prompto this time, looking at the half of his face that’s visible beneath his shaggy blond hair. Noctis scoots closer until his face is inches away from his friend’s, close enough to see some of the freckles that are nearly invisible unless you’re this close. Noctis wants to be the only one to see them. He reaches out to place a hand on the side of Prompto’s head, thumb on his cheek—and Noctis begins to stroke the dark dots on Prompto’s skin. His eyelids flutter closed and he breathes and allows himself to just _feel_ in this moment—private, intimate, no cameras, no chores, no being the _prince_ of _anything_ —just him, just Prompto. 

He finds himself drifting back off into a light doze, hand still on Prompto’s face, when he hears movement and a shift in his friend’s breathing pattern. Noctis holds his breath—he doesn’t know why, he knows Prompto won’t be mad at him for touching him. 

“Mmmmmmm, Noct...” 

The prince’s heart clenches when he hears Prompto’s groggy voice, deeper than usual, slurred with sleep and drool. He cracks an eye. 

Prompto’s got one eye wide open, blue-violet stare hooking Noctis like a fish on a fancy lure. His heartrate speeds up and he feels his face go hot. “Mornin’ buddy,” Prompto says lazily as he smiles. 

“Morning,” replies Noctis as he starts to stroke Prompto’s face again. 

Prompto closes his eye and hums and leans into his touch, shifting slightly to bring one arm from under the pillow and place it on top of Noct’s hand. 

Noctis lets out a shuddered breath. He’s so _warm_. Noctis wants to drink Prompto up like a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy day. “I love you,” says Noctis. 

Prompto squints his eyes and giggles, pushing his face even more into the pillow. 

All of the air whooshes out of Noct’s lungs like he was just punched in the gut. He doesn’t understand how he can love someone _this_ much. It’s driving him crazy. “Prompto.” 

Prompto turns fully on his side, whole face visible to Noct now, deep blush spread across his starry face and pointed nose. There’s tears in the corners of his brilliant blue eyes. He can’t help but cry—he doesn’t understand it, and he doesn’t think he ever will. The past several months of their budding relationship has been like a wet fever dream that he never wants to wake up from. He’s pretty sure that Noctis’ retainers know—they're not stupid, of course they know—but surprisingly he hasn’t been thrown in jail for fucking the crown prince of Lucis, so he just lays low like usual, letting Noctis initiate almost everything, still too scared to lose control of himself in his prince like he really, _really_ wants to. “Love you too, dude,” he laughs happily. He’s not scared now, no—not when they’re warm in the bed alone with only each other, when daylight hasn’t reached them, when they’re both still-half dreaming and the world doesn’t need them—doesn't need Noctis—just yet. 

They stay like that for a long time, just looking at each other, each wondering how in the hell the stars have aligned for them to be able to be together like this. They’re exchanging soft, lazy kisses, until Prompto makes the mistake of biting Noct’s tongue and the prince growls, low and heady. 

“ _Prompto_ _,_ ” Noctis groans. 

“Mmmmmmmm,” Prompto hums. “So _needy._ ” 

Noctis rolls his eyes and grabs Prompto firmly by the arms, easily rolling the blond on top of him. 

Prompto stares down at his prince, wide-eyed, whole body flushed with warmth and desire. He feels trapped under Noct’s dark stare, fully aware that he’s only got one article of clothing on compared to Noct’s three. He sits up and subtly grinds his groin against Noctis, closing his eyes and throwing his head back in pleasure. 

“Noct...” Prompto makes a keen whine that goes straight to Noct’s dick. The prince licks his lips and reaches one hand up to tug at Prompto’s nipple, which only makes him whine again. 

All this time, Prompto has never taken the initiative to top Noctis. He’s always been on the receiving end, no matter how much he yearns to take his prince and wreck him utterly. He doesn’t know why he holds back. He’s letting out breathy moans of pleasure as he grinds his erection against Noctis when he hears a quiet voice say “Fuck me.” 

Prompto’s eyes snap open and he looks down at the boy underneath him. Noctis’ dark blue eyes are blown out with desire, and he’s biting his lip. “Wha...what?” 

“You heard me, Prom. I said fuck me.” 

Oh, _Six_. Prompto’s sure he’s stopped breathing for several seconds. He feels Noct wiggle underneath him but otherwise his whole body goes numb, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He feels his face get hot, and his cock swells even more under his boxer-briefs. “Nuh-noct, are...are you sure...?” 

“Hell yes I’m sure,” says Noctis forcefully. “Please, Prompto. I want to feel you. I’m ready. Please.” 

How could he ever deny Noctis anything, ever? Prompto gulps and climbs off the bed. Noctis makes quick work of his clothes and shoves the blankets to one side. He watches Prompto shakily peel down his underwear, squatting after he’s done to find the shoebox in the bottom nightstand drawer that’s got the condoms and lube. Prompto tosses the bottle and a gold foil packet to Noctis and climbs back on the bed. He takes a moment to drink in Noct’s nude form and swallows, tongue heavy in his mouth. His heart is about to fly out of his chest and Prompto’s never been so thankful for his ribs before now. 

Noctis hands him the lube and Prompto snaps it open and liberally coats one of his fingers. The prince bends his knees and spreads his legs, reaching down to spread his cheeks. He exhales slowly, trying to relax for Prompto. Prom’s eaten his ass and fingered him a little, so this isn’t entirely a foreign concept to him, but he’s never taken anything further up than what Prompto’s skinny finger can reach, so admittedly, he’s nervous. But he’s also turned on beyond belief at the thought of Prompto losing himself in _him_ , so he shoves anxiety aside and stares at his bottom half through half-closed eyelids. 

Prompto’s so beautiful and careful as he pushes his finger in and out of Noctis. After several minutes, he eases in a second finger, causing Noct to groan and arch up off the bed. His cock is hard and leaking against his lower abdomen, and he touches himself lightly to take the edge off. He can’t take his eyes off Prompto, who’s staring down at what he’s doing as though Noct’s ass has him hypnotized. He’s sweating and thrusting lightly into his hand, scared he’s going to come just from this, but soon enough Prompto pushes in a third finger and works him open even more, and curls those slim fingers up and pushes them in as far he can get them, and suddenly Noctis feels warmth radiate throughout his entire body and shudders violently. 

“The...there, Prompto...” 

“Sssssshhhh, relax, Noct, I’ve got you,” Prompto purrs, placing his free hand on his hip and guiding him back down to the bed. “You feel so amazing, Noct. I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he murmurs quietly. Prompto draws his fingers out almost all of the way and slams back in again, and again, pumping in and out of Noctis like a well-oiled piston, and Noctis is crying and screaming out curses of Prompto’s name as Prompto hits that spot deep inside of him repeatedly. 

“Prom...Prompto...” Noctis whines, his fist working over his hard, swollen cock with reckless abandon. “I’m...I’m going to...” 

Prompto smiles fondly. “That’s it, baby. Let go for me.” 

Noctis screams at the pet name and thrusts forward on Prompto’s fingers, arching high as he milks himself, his release coating both his hand and his cock and spilling up onto his stomach. He works himself until he’s oversensitive, and he drops back down to the bed, letting his hand fall away. He’s got tears streaming down his cheeks and he feels Prompto withdraw his hand, and suddenly feels a wet warmth surrounding his softening cock. He moans as he realizes that Prompto is cleaning him off with his mouth; he feels him lick all of the spend from his groin and stomach, and Noctis shamelessly lifts his filthy hand and shivers when Prompto licks all over his fingers, gathering what he can. It’s arguably one of the hottest things that Prompto has ever done, licking up Noctis’ cum like he’s downright _grateful_ for it. 

Prompto tears open the condom and rolls it onto himself. “Ready buddy?” 

“Get inside of me,” Noctis growls. 

Prompto laughs heartily and grabs the backs of Noct’s legs, pulling him forward and positioning him how he needs. He squirts a little more lube onto his thick length; he’s so hard, he hopes he can last, hopes he can give Noctis what he wants. Prompto grabs his base and guides the first couple of inches of himself into Noctis’ tight heat and stays for a minute. 

“Fuck, Prompto. You’re so big,” Noctis whines. 

Prompto blushes. “Lucky for you, I guess?” he teases. 

Noctis sticks out his tongue. “Asshole.” 

Prompto looks down. “Yep, that’s exactly what I’m about to fuck. Your point?” 

When did he get so mouthy during sex? Noctis realizes that the more he talks to Prompto, the sassier he gets. Noctis _loves_ it. 

Prompto gives a few experimental thrusts and inches further into Noctis with each one, groaning in the hottest ways possible and hissing “Fuck, Noct, you’re so tight, you feel so good...” 

Noctis decides to dial up the praise as Prompto takes his time and eases him into it. He can already feel himself getting hard again. “You’re amazing, Prompto,” Noctis breathes. “You’re so, so good, I love you so much.” 

“ _Noctis_ ,” Prompto groans a rare use of his full name. 

“You’re so beautiful, Prompto, so good for me. Only for me. I want to feel you, come on baby, fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it. I can take it. _Take me_ ,” Noctis pleads. He takes his own cock in his hand again. 

He’s _begging_ him. The Prince of Lucis is _begging_ him. Prompto’s got his cock almost all the way in, and he’s been rocking gently, riding the pleasure waves and relishing the feel of Noctis around him. He hasn’t let primal instinct take over, he hasn’t pounded Noctis into the mattress like he wants to. But now...now Noctis is downright _begging_ him. And how can he deny Noctis anything, ever? 

“As you wish, your Highness,” Prompto says, voice dropping low and hot. 

_Fuck_ , there’s the power play. Just when Noctis thinks he’s got Prompto by the balls, his pretty blond friend wedges his way further into Noct’s heart and turns the tables. Prompto doesn’t address him as royalty in any other capacity except for when they’re in bed. And he doesn’t do it often; he doesn’t want it to lose the appeal. So Prompto leans forward and hikes Noct’s good leg up over his shoulder and bottoms out with a loud cry, and begins to rut into him like it’s the last carnal pleasure he’ll ever get to enjoy. 

“Fuck--!” Noctis cries out loud as Prompto fills him wholly stretching him past the point of pain and into pure, dripping pleasure. Prompto works his hips like he did his fingers, hard, mechanical, the same rhythm each time, hitting that sweet spot over and over, barely giving Noctis a chance to breath. Prompto leans down and pushes his face into the crux of Noct’s neck and bares his teeth, sucking a bruise that he knows will probably make Ignis livid beyond belief, but right now he doesn’t care. There is only him, there’s only Noctis, who’s gripping into his back so hard he’s breaking the skin; but the dig of Noct’s fingernails only helps to spur him on faster. 

Prompto feels Noct come again between them. “You...you fuck me so good, Prompto!” Noctis cries. “You gonna come for me, baby? Please, please let me feel you...” Noctis is a blubbering, sticky mess and he thinks that life can’t get any better than this. 

Prompto screams into Noct’s shoulder as his orgasm rips out of him. He comes so hard he sees stars, and he grips the sheets until his knuckles are white. His hips stutter and he pushes and pushes into Noctis until he physically can’t. He stills, finally, and both of them are crying, shaking, and Prompto feels himself slip out and he collapses on top of Noctis. 

Minutes pass and somewhere in the still quiet of the morning, a phone rings. It’s Noct’s phone, and the ringtone is specific to Ignis’ phone number. Noctis doesn’t move. He pets Prompto’s sweaty hair instead, kissing him. Prompto hums in appreciation. Eventually he raises up on his forearms and stares at his prince. He’s blushing hard, but his features are so soft, now, in post-orgasmic bliss, and he smiles lovingly at Noctis, who can do nothing except smile back at the angel on top of him. 

“Was that...did I do okay?” Prompto’s still afraid of messing up whatever they’ve got going on, afraid of hurting Noctis, afraid of blowing his chance of being the best friend—and lover? boyfriend?—of the crown prince. 

“How can you possibly ask that?” Noctis breathes as he strokes Prompto’s hair. “I never knew...I didn’t know it could feel that incredible. That was insane.” 

“Yeah?” Prompto chuckles. “I’m glad I was able to give you what you wanted, then.” 

“You’re everything I want,” says Noctis simply, and Prompto blushes harder. “But I liked seeing you lose control like that.” 

“Well, my liege demanded it, and who am I to deny him?” 

It’s Noct’s turn to blush, but before he can reply his phone rings again, and he knows that one missed call from Ignis is one too many. He sighs and Prompto takes the hint, rolling off of the bed and sauntering lazily to the bathroom. He peels the condom off and ties it up as he hears Noctis speaking with his chamberlain on the phone. He starts the shower, turning it to the far red mark, and steps in. He smiles. Noctis loves him. That’s all he’ll ever need. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trash, thanks for asking!
> 
> __________
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated as always.


	3. Lascivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto snaps his eyes open and stares, licking his lips. Noct’s body is a wet dream, and the fact that Prompto gets to indulge in it, even when he’s been denied like this, even when he’s on the bottom, is a goddamned miracle. Prompto doesn’t understand how Noctis can call him perfect when every inch of Noctis looks like it was slotted together by the gods, personally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooooooo sorry for taking a while, my dumb ass went and started a whole coffee shop AU so I low-key forgot about this for like two weeks. Uh. Anyway. Have some denied Prompto for your troubles.  
> ________  
> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

Noctis doesn’t know why the gods have decided to give him this. Maybe it’s because they’ve already taken—or are going to take—everything else away. Noct’s young body is already at its breaking point with magic, his mortality a weak vessel in the face of the power of his ancestors, his skin and bones just barely holding back the flood. Maybe it’s because they’re slowly taking his dad, inch by inch—Regis shouldn’t be so old now, but he is, sacrificing himself for the last bastion in the kingdom, what with Niflheim already taking over so, _so_ much. Maybe it’s because they know something that he doesn’t know, something that will cost him everything, down the line; and so for now, they’re giving him this one human indulgence, one carnal pleasure that he can call his own before his time comes to be the Chosen, whatever that means. 

Because Noctis doesn’t understand how someone could be so deliciously _perfect_. Noctis wishes he could thank Prompto’s birth parents, wherever they are, for creating Prompto. It’s the most selfish thought he’s ever had and he means it with all of the bratty attitude Gladio accuses him of having. Noctis is surrounded by handsome people every day—his chamberlain, his shield, the entire Kingsglaive—but no one has ever come close to how gorgeous Prompto is. 

Specifically—how good Prompto looks _right now_ , splayed out and bared for the world to see. The world meaning only Noctis, of course. They’ve been at it for an hour, and Noct hasn’t even taken his pants off. His cock is so swollen it hurts, but he’s thought about this for a long time, and he knows he’ll get his, so for now he focuses on Prompto. Prompto’s got his hands above his head, squeezing the chocobo down out of one luxury pillow. Noctis had thought about restraining him with one of their school uniform ties, but the original plan fell prey to a more devious line of thinking. Noct had asked Prompto if he thought he could be good, and that switch flipped on in Prompto’s brain. So now Noctis is testing Prompto’s self-control; he’d simply commanded him not to touch, and so far, he’s been doing beautifully. His whole body is flushed and sweaty, soft blond hair matted to his forehead; sapphire eyes half-lidded, only breaking their gaze on Noctis when the prince does something particularly dirty and Prompto clenches his eyes shut and sings Noct’s name in a way that should be illegal. 

His whole body is shaking, pale freckled thighs quivering with the effort of keeping his legs bent, ass propped up on another pillow so Noctis could have easier access. Prompto’s cock is hard, red, and leaking, and Noct’s been teasing him with feather-light touches every few minutes. He’s covered in bite marks and hickies—Noctis knows that his hips are a particular kind of erogenous zone, so he smirks as he leans down to bite at one again, tongue lapping at the faded stretch marks; remnants of a lonely, unhealthy childhood that was discarded for him and him alone—when Noct had found that out, he’d cried and had let Prompto use him however he wanted, as a sort of repentance. 

Prompto cries out as Noct’s teeth dip into his skin again, cock bouncing, leaking pre-come against his skin, hitting Noct’s shoulder—the fabric of Noct’s shirt is too soft, too pleasing, and he wrenches up, violently, to avoid the stimulation. Noctis laughs as he sits back on his haunches and pushes Prompto back down, gripping the base of his cock to stave off any thought of orgasm. Prompto whines and sucks air through his teeth at Noct’s sword-calloused hands on his cock and does mental exercises to regulate his breathing and focus on not coming. 

It’s been a few minutes, and Prompto’s breath is starting to even out. He opens his eyes to see if Noctis is tired of playing with him yet. _Nope, still dressed_. As much as Prompto wants to come, he can’t deny the high that this is giving him. To be on display for Noctis, to be at his every whim...it’s a culmination of about a thousand different fantasies over three years in the making. Most days he still can’t believe that Noctis is into him like this, that Noctis _loves_ him like this; Prompto thanks the gods that at least they’ve let him have one good thing in life. And if this is all he’ll ever have, he’d be content. He’s wrapped around Noct’s finger, he’d do _anything_ for the prince, if only Noct would ask. 

Noct catches Prompto staring in silence for a few minutes and smirks. “Doing okay, Prom?” 

“Ye-yeah,” says Prompto, breathless. He doesn’t ask to come, doesn’t ask Noctis to get on with it. He wants to be good, so good, for his prince. So he just stares at Noct’s terribly exotic features: re-memorizes the curve of his lips, the shapes of his eyebrows, the messy pattern of his hair, his sculpted muscles beneath the plain black t-shirt, gets lost in the dark blue eyes that every now and then flash a sort of violet-red. He does shift his body a bit, however; just to keep the blood flow. 

“You gettin' tired yet?” Noct’s voice is lazy, casual, as if he’s not just given Prompto the biggest case of blue balls in the world this evening. Noctis chuckles to himself at the joke and just to make a point, the reaches down to softly fondle Prompto’s swollen balls with both hands. 

Prompto leans his head back and groans, arching at the touch. 

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” Noctis coos. “Gods, Prompto, you’re so _perfect_.” 

Prompto moans deeply at the praise, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and he sniffs. “Yes, Noct,” he manages to say. 

Noctis smirks, leaving Prompto’s balls alone, and hikes one leg up straight, half-lifting Prompto from the bed; and his hand collides with the backside of Prompto’s thigh. It’s turning a soft shade of pink now, almost the same color of the skin under the pretty line of freckles across Prompto’s nose. Noctis smacks again, and a third time, before lowering Prompto down. His dick is at attention again, bobbing violently in the air. Prompto’s got a steady stream of tears, now, and he’s sucking on his bottom lip, whole body shaking. 

He doesn’t want to come. Noctis hasn’t told him that he could. 

“I thought I told you what to call me.” Noct’s in that particular mood. He only ever wants to hear his title drip from Prompto’s pretty mouth. He only wants it to hang in the air with the smell of sweat and sex and lubricant. 

“Ah...I’m sorry, P-prince Noctis,” and Prompto shudders as he says it. 

The reaction isn’t lost on Noct. “Fuck, Prompto.” Noctis doesn’t think he can take it anymore—it's a wonder that Prompto’s been able to. It’s the hottest thing that Noctis has ever witnessed, and the fact that _he’s_ in charge, that Prompto obeys commands for _him_ only...the feeling is coursing through his veins, threatening to overtake even the gods’ magic. Noct scrambles from the bed and rips off his t-shirt and sweatpants, groaning as the cool bedroom air hits his finally-freed erection. 

Prompto snaps his eyes open and stares, licking his lips. Noct’s body is a wet dream, and the fact that Prompto gets to indulge in it, even when he’s been denied like this, even when he’s on the bottom, is a goddamned miracle. Prompto doesn’t understand how Noctis can call _him_ perfect when every inch of Noctis looks like it was slotted together by the gods, personally. 

Prompto’s eyes burn holes into Noct’s skin as he gets back on the bed and pours more lube onto his hand so he can coat his cock. Noct shudders at the sensation, stares back at Prompto. “You ready?” 

“Gods, Highness, _yes_ ,” Prompto keens, gripping the pillows above his head and lifting his hips so Noct can get a good angle. 

There’s the title again, and fuck, Noctis can’t help himself. How is he supposed to refrain from pounding his best friend into the mattress when he talks to him like _that_? 

Prompto had Noct’s fingers at the beginning of the night, so he’s a little wet and open already, but Noctis knows that Prompto gets off on a little pain, so he grabs himself and pushes into Prompto, unyielding as he brings his hips flush against pale freckled skin. 

Noctis bows his head and groans. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ _tight_.” 

Prompto moans wantonly under him, body trembling, ankles resting on Noct’s shoulders. His hands are still clutching the pillow above him. He still can’t touch. He’s shaking with the effort of self-control and it’s like a drug. 

Noctis starts rolling his hips nice and lazy, letting out breathy moans in tandem with his rocking. Prompto is absolutely debauched underneath him, cock still so hard and bobbing with the rhythm, string of pre-come connecting his lean ab muscles with the swollen, velvety head. 

Prompto’s getting so close, though; speech descending in to mostly unintelligible babble, mostly high whining, until Noctis thrusts forward _hard,_ and then he cries out. “Gods, _Noctis_ , please!” 

Noctis groans again, feeling the creeping onset of crackling magical energy start to surface. “Tell me how much you want it, Prompto. Tell me how much of a slut you are for your prince’s dick.” Noctis rarely talks like this, certainly didn’t start talking like this when they first started out. But ever since he learned that Prompto had a thing for using his title; and ever since he learned that he had a thing for hearing it from Prompto in bed, Noctis can’t help himself. The dirty talk comes out quietly and firmly, and he means every single goddamn word. He’s feeling dark, powerful—he knows he could do anything to Prompto and Prompto would let him, thank him. He doesn’t treat him like royalty in their every-day, but deep down, Noctis still knows that Prompto worships him in a hundred different ways. And when they’re alone like this, when it’s dark and they’re on top of the world, nothing matters except each other and the feel of their bodies impossibly close. He snaps his hips forward again, hard, and he knows he’s hit that spot deep inside of Prompto. “Tell me,” he growls again. 

“ _Fuck,_ Noct, every day, as much as you want to give me,” Prompto cries, tears streaming down his face. “Only you can touch me like this, only you, your _highness_ , my _prince_.” 

That’s it, Noctis has had enough. He pulls out and Prompto whines at the loss, but Noctis roughly drags and flips him onto his stomach; face down, ass up, legs spread wide to grant access. Prompto’s clutching the sheets, now, and Noctis sets a fast, steady pace, hitting Prompto’s prostate each time. 

Prompto’s got half his face shoved into the soft sheets, screaming variations of Noct’s name, his titles, declarations of love, cries of _more, harder, faster._

Noctis feels himself getting close, feels himself cresting that wave, balls tightening. He’s a benevolent prince, a generous lover. “Touch yourself,” Noctis commands. 

The cry that rips out of Prompto’s pretty mouth is his loudest and dirtiest yet, and Noctis doesn’t ever think he’s seen Prompto’s hand move so fast. He feels the shift, feels Prompto start to stroke himself. 

“Oh, _Six_ , oh fuck, Noct, baby, gods, yes,” Prompto’s saying. Noctis said he could touch. He still didn’t tell him he could come. 

“I’m so close, Prompto,” Noctis manages. 

Prompto takes a chance. He thinks maybe he’s been good enough. “Please, Highness, may I come?” 

Noctis groans. “Oh, fuck, Prompto, you’re so _good_. Yeah, fuck yeah,” he praises. Prompto’s so perfect for him, it’s insane. 

And that’s all it takes, and Noct feels Prompto scream into the sheets at the permission, feels his whole body shudder with the release of so many denied orgasms, the result of their hour of fun spilling out onto the duvet, all over Prompto’s fingers as he rocks himself to completion. Noct isn’t far behind, the clench of Prompto’s tight heat around him, the dizzying effect of Prompto’s reverence and their power play infusing with the all-consuming magic that courses through Noct’s veins, threatening to tear him apart. Noctis comes with gasping breath, simultaneously cursing and praising the Astrals, screaming Prompto’s name in ecstasy. 

He collapses on top of his best friend minutes later, spent and boneless and sticky, and Prompto doesn’t move. He rolls to the side and finds the side of Prompto’s face that’s visible. Prompto’s long eyelashes flutter open and he shoots the most heart-melting smile, and Noctis is nearly knocked breathless again. 

“You okay, Prom?” Noctis asks, voice hoarse. 

Prompto giggles. “I’m good buddy. Was that good for you?” 

“Prompto. You’re incredible.” 

Prompto laughs nervously but Noctis doesn’t miss the almost-violent shiver that follows his words. “I, uh, could say the same about you.” 

Noct hums happily and pets Prompto’s hair. He feels his usual lethargy setting in. “Shower now or later?” 

“Mmmmmmmm, not sure I can move just yet. Maybe a little cat nap first. Uh, if it pleases your Highness.” 

Noctis snorts. “Yeah, all right.” And he follows Prompto into dreams. 


End file.
